It’s so easy to give up on important things: Exercise. Writing a novel. There’s no real difference when it comes to commitment. Sometimes all you need is inspiration or threats…or fear of public ridicule.
I recently read a Facebook post by an author I quite like about being told at a book club that her main character was “stupid.” She also noted that it is probably a good reason for not writing autobiographical fiction. There were a lot of supportive comments posted in response and some general good cheer… Continue reading On Visiting Book Clubs
I have seen the paparazzi and heard the screams of fans. It was my annual TIFF treat with my friend Heidi. Years ago, she introduced me to the delights of the Toronto International Film Festival and while I can ever only manage to join her for one movie each year, it has always been a… Continue reading Film Festivals and the Heidi Effect
Thanks Michael Bryson for tagging me on this chain. To be honest, I have been tagged by other wonderful writerly types but wasn’t in the right space to participate. I am now, so apologies Phil Dwyer, Deepam Wadds and others who might have asked me to do this before. I recommend it as a wonderful opportunity… Continue reading The Next Big Thing
Late September and the campfire was crackling at the cabin. Our wee haven in Haliburton is glorious: nestled between two little rivers, surrounded by fir, spruce and pine, it is two hours from home and a million miles from what keeps me from listening otherwise. Our world is noisy and often noisome in the disagreeable… Continue reading The Art and Craft of Listening